


The art of conversation

by Jmeelee



Series: Things You Said [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-13 02:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18023444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jmeelee/pseuds/Jmeelee
Summary: Derek and Stiles meet, off all places, in the supermarket when they are five and six years old, respectively. Their moms, Talia and Claudia, stop to chat at the end of the refrigerated food isle, and the two boys size each other up over the sides of metal shopping carts brimming with fruit snacks and frozen broccoli.It’s Stiles who breaks first, overcome with excitement at finally meeting the infamous Derek Hale, whom his mother has mentioned to him. Now that the world knows about and accepts supernatural beings, the Hale family can finally be themselves. Stiles has stars in his eyes as he says, “Wow, you’re—““A werewolf! I know! Isn’t it cool?” Derek interrupts.And so it begins.





	The art of conversation

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam, who prompted me with Sterek + Things you interrupted me to say.

Derek and Stiles meet, off all places, in the supermarket when they are five and six years old, respectively. Their moms, Talia and Claudia, stop to chat at the end of the refrigerated food isle, and the two boys size each other up over the sides of metal shopping carts brimming with fruit snacks and frozen broccoli.

 

It’s Stiles who breaks first, overcome with excitement at finally meeting the infamous Derek Hale, whom his mother has mentioned to him. Now that the world knows about and accepts supernatural beings, the Hale family can finally be themselves. Stiles has stars in his eyes as he says, “Wow, you’re—“

 

“A werewolf! I know! Isn’t it cool?” Derek interrupts. 

 

And so it begins.

 

*****

 

“He’s coming, Scotty. How do I look?” Stiles smooths a hand needlessly over his shaved head.

 

Scott grimaces and zips up his backpack. “A little sweaty, to be honest.”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes, shoves his hands into his pockets and then pulls them out again. He grabs his hoodie string and starts chewing the end. “Thanks for nothing. Now scram.” 

 

“Good luck!” Scott calls over his shoulder as he heads down the crowded hallway to third period. Stiles puffs out his chest as Derek walks up.

 

“Hey… Hi,” Stiles sputters, letting the string fall from his mouth, fingers twisting in the front of his sweatshirt. Derek raises one eyebrow. “So I was thinking. There’s a dance on Friday and—“

 

“Stiles, no way.” Derek shakes his head.

 

“No?” He squeaks. In his brain’s obsessive computing of how this would go, being shot down so quickly didn’t factor in.

 

“You can’t go to a middle school dance.” Derek spins the dial on his lock, and it clicks open. “They’re social suicide. Laura told me so; she’s in eleventh grade and knows everything.” He swings his locker open and grabs his history textbook. “And besides, only couples go to those kinds of things.”

 

“Well, see, that’s the thing. I was thinking maybe—“

 

“Stiles,” Derek sighs. “Lydia Martin won’t even give you the time of day. She definitely won’t go to the dance with you.” He stands on tip-toes, scrounging for his spiral notebook. 

 

“It’s on the bottom,” Stiles reminds him, “where you always throw it at the end of the day.”

 

“Oh yeah! Thanks. Anyway, I heard from someone on the basketball team that she likes Jackson Whittemore, and is hoping he asks her to go.” The locker slams shut with a foreboding sense of finality.

 

“Yeah. Okay, geez. I guess you’re right.” Stiles slips the straps of his backpack over his shoulder, and clutches his books to his chest. “Want to come over and play video games with Scott and I instead?”

 

“Sounds good!” Derek smacks him on the shoulder. Stiles winces, but not from the force.

 

*****

 

“I’m going to fail this final,” Stiles proclaims over the buzz of the cafeteria. “I’m going to fail and Lydia’s GPA will surpass mine and I’ll never become—”

 

“Valedictorian,” Derek finishes, the word muffled around a huge bite of peanut butter and jelly. “But you  _ will _ . You’ll ace this test, Stiles. Come on. You always think you’ll fail and you never do. You’ve got this in the bag.”

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy. Now, are you going to eat the rest of those fries?” Derek slides over the flimsy recycled cardboard holder, leaving a smear a grease on the speckled laminate tabletop.

 

Erica smirks, a lock of blonde hair curled around her finger. “Where’s the honeymoon going to be? You guys are like a married couple, sharing your food and finishing each other’s sentences.” 

 

Derek’s hackles rise, and he opens his mouth to refute her ridiculous claim when Stiles’ laugh rings out like a bell. Derek never fails to be amazed at how easily jabs seem to roll off his back. “Maybe we  _ would  _ be married if he’d actually let me finish one.” Stiles winks at him, and something foreign flutters behind his ribs.

 

Derek sits in his hard plastic seat, shell shocked. Stiles throws a fry at his furrowed forehead.

 

*****

 

Derek’s never seen Stiles this angry before.  _ He’s _ the supernatural being,  _ he _ could kill a man with his bare hands, but right now Stiles—all 147 pounds of him— is the force to be reckoned with. “You think you know what’s best for everyone! But you don’t!” A long finger is stabbed into the center of his chest.

 

Derek bristles. After all this time, after all they’ve been through, all the people they’ve lost, how dare Stiles think Derek isn’t acting in his best interest? “I do! I’m the—“

 

“ _ Alpha _ !” Stiles’ scream rips across the clearing like a needle on a record, silence descending in its wake, and all the wolves pause and stare. Derek’s mouth finally snaps shut. “I know,” Stiles seethes. “We all  _ know _ . Now why don’t you start acting like one?”

 

There’s three other people out here with him, all he has left in the world to call  _ family _ . But as Stiles turns and walks away, Derek’s never felt more alone.

 

*****

 

“Come on, Stiles!” Derek calls through the front door. “Let me in!”

 

“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!” Stiles shouts back. 

 

“Cut the crap and open up!” He pounds on the fiberglass with a meaty fist. “And you know you can’t grow facial hair for shit!”

 

The door swings open so fast Derek face-plants in the entryway. “You take that back, asshole!” Stiles’ face is livid. 

 

Derek rolls over onto his back, exposing his belly. Stiles narrows his eyes at the submissive position. “I know you’re mad, but I can’t apologize for trying to keep you safe. It’s what I’ve always done. It’s what I’ll always do.”

 

“That’s just it, Derek.” Stiles grabs fistfuls of hair at his temples and pulls. “I’ve been running with you since I was a kid, but you never  _ see _ me. You never  _ hear _ —“

 

Derek scoffs. “What are you talking about? You’re all I see.”

 

Stiles drops the hands from his hair and squares his shoulders. He puts one hand on the doorknob. “I wish I believed that, but I don’t. I’m tired of being one more thing you need to take care of. I think you should go.”

 

Stiles isn’t looking at him, gaze fixed on a spot on the wall. Derek sits up, eyes imploring, and wraps a hand around Stiles’ leg. “I’ll go, if you want me to, but I’d rather stay, and fix this. Fix  _ us _ . I’ll do anything. Just name it.”

 

Stiles glances down at him. “You have to let me talk. You have to let me say what I need to say, and don’t interrupt.”

 

Derek mines zipping his lips. The tiny smile he earns in return bolsters his resolve. 

 

Stiles reaches down and grasps Derek’s outstretched hand, pulling him up. He takes a deep breath, and says, “The truth is, I love you, and I’ve been trying to tell you that for a very long time.”

 

*****

 

“And do you, Derek, take Stiles to be your—“

 

“I do.”

 

Stiles smacks Derek upside the head. “Let the man finish!”

 

Derek turns to the officiant—who looks five seconds away from wetting his pant—with a sharp smile. “Are you finished?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” He leans over the podium, signs his name on the marriage license. “Just kiss him already.”

 

“My pleasure.” 

 

“You’re such—“

 

“An idiot? An asshole? You signed up for a whole lifetime of  _ this _ .”

 

“I did.” Stiles smiles, leaning in for a kiss. “I think I got a pretty good deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [Jamie.](http://jmeelee.tumblr.com/) Thank you for reading!


End file.
